Magical Mishaps of the Feline Variety
by AvyQuinn
Summary: A magical mishap leaves Fenris with cat ears and a tail. And because of that, Anders thinks he's the subject of a cruel trick by the Maker. **Smutty kink meme de-anon. Anders/Fenris**


_A/N: Written for the kink meme. I've been meaning to get this one edited and posted. Thanks to my friend Sandra who selflessly toiled over the edit!  
>Prompt: A magical mishap leaves Fenris with cat ears and maybe a tail.<br>I was also inspired by a drawing someone did of Anders teasing Fenris with a pink cat toy.  
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_...I don't even. *facepalm*  
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><p>Now Anders had been around.<p>

He'd seen many things that no one would ever see again, and done many things no one could even imagine doing now or ever. His vast knowledge of the world was staggering, and he appreciated every moment he'd lived – even if it hadn't been the best of times all the time.

But, in spite of all of that life experience he had under his proverbial belt, nothing prepared him for this day; the day that one of his – well, Hawke's – adventuring companions came into his clinic.

He'd questioned the Maker before, but this day he wondered if the Maker really _did_ have it out for him.

Anders stood at his work table, hands in hot soapy water to cleanse them from the days filth and other people's bodily fluids, a yawn forcing its way out of his mouth.

Hurried footsteps alerted him to a presence just outside the clinic door, and as he looked up, a cloaked, hooded figure extinguished the dutifully burning beacon and stalked into the clinic, closing – and locking – the door behind him.

"Uh, good evening, Serah. I was actually just about to close up -"

The slightly hunched over form drew ever closer, uncomfortably silent. All Anders could see peeking out from the heavy cloak were bare, tattooed feet.

"Fenris?"

"Mage." The visitor replied irritably.

Flicking the water off his hands into the wash basin, he dried them on a nearby towel. If Fenris was already irritated, he might as well have a bit of fun. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" He cooed, sickeningly sweet. He didn't expect a real answer, his tone had been just enough to sound mocking.

"I _require_ your services." Fenris eventually ground out.

An answer _and_ a request? Well, it was as much a request as he was going to ever hear from the ex-slave.

And why was he wearing that damned hood?

"Really! This ought to be good."

Only then did Fenris raise his head, face shadowed by the heavy cloth. His mouth was set in a straight line.

"Well, get on with it. And take that hood off while you're at it." he fussed, turning around to clothespin the dampened hand towel up on a short line.

"I like to look my patients in the -" He turned around and cursed aloud at the sight. "_Andraste's flaming knickers_!"

Drawing back the hood not only revealed the Tevinter's trademark silver-white locks, but Anders noticed two, new and unusual additions to the top of his head.

Very large, very fluffy, very _feline_-shaped ears.

Anders could only gape, and when he didn't say anything else, Fenris frowned.

The Maker sure did know how to screw him over, that was for certain. Anders, in spite of himself always did have a soft spot for elves, seduced almost all there were in the circle back home, but he'd considered Fenris off-limits; especially when it came to anything physical. It was clear the elf hated him, and would rather kill him than be a_ victim_ of a little of the apostate's healing specialties or otherwise.

Apparently until now.

"I was... cleaning last night." Fenris said, diverting his shy gaze, his white ears turning and flattening slightly.

It was so cute.

Blinking stupidly, he had to turn away from Fenris or be caught grinning like an idiot. That was a sure way to get his heart ripped out of his chest. So, instead, he had walked to the cabinet where he kept his potions and poultices and such, feigning a search.

"Cleaning?" Anders commented weakly, clearing his throat amidst a disguising chuckle. "Whatever for? I thought the sacrificed remains and grotesque Tevinter knick-knacks gave character to the place. Are you having a yard sale?" Maybe it wasn't the time to antagonize Fenris.

Actually, maybe it was the _perfect_ time.

There wasn't anyone else Fenris could appeal to in Kirkwall. Well, perhaps he could appeal to the circle, and for a moment Anders was touched that Fenris trusted him enough bring his problem to him, even though it was probably only because he was much too embarrassed to take it to anywhere else. He could have gone to Merrill, but he suspected that Fenris might have hated _her_ more than he did the healer; even if they had race in common.

He felt a little flattered to be considered the lesser of two evils.

"A box tipped over and cracked open, filling the room with dust. I must have breathed some of it in, and this morning I awoke to find... _these._" He spat out, fingering the appendages roughly just as Anders turned to look at him.

The fluffy ears twitched under Fenris' unkind motions, and Anders twitched in his pants in somewhat of a pathetic response.

Turning back around, he glanced upward and cursed the Maker.

_I hate you so much._

So Anders did what he needed to do to deal until he could figure out what to do with this _gift_ the Maker found fit to send his way. He attempted to make light.

"They make you look much less intimidating. Perhaps you should keep them. You could join a sideshow somewhere and make some extra sovereigns."

"How about I just chop them off? Then I won't _need_ your help."

Anders whirled around, hands held out in front of him. "No, no, no. Let's not be hasty, Fenris."

Green eyes narrowed, hands reaching for the huge blade strapped to his back.

"They might have had to _grow_ out of some part of you, so if you go lopping things off, you might be liable to regret it. And as much as I'd just _love_ to sew you back together, I'm afraid I cannot let you bring harm to yourself."

The hands dropped to harmlessly to the elf's side.

Anders took that as co-operation.

Another twitch of the ears caught the healer's attention again, as if reminding him they were still there.

And if he didn't want to – _Maker take him – nuzzle_ them so bad, then maybe he would have let the elf have at himself.

Grabbing a clipboard, he took a quill in hand and readied himself to record information. He was a bit desperate for distraction. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions."

Fenris only stared expectantly at him. Anders cleared his throat; tone professional. It was entirely unnecessary – he really only needed to _touch_ and _probe_ the patient, but it wouldn't hurt to get some background...

"So you opened a box. Do you remember if the box had any glyphs on it, or symbols?"

"I... do not."

"I could do with a sample. Do you still have any?"

"There may still be some on the floor, though I swept up what I could."

"Did it have a specific taste or smell?"

Fenris blinked for a moment, eyes shifting as if he were trying to remember. "It tasted sweet."

"I see." Anders busied himself with the note, trying to keep a straight face, naughty thoughts running around his head.

He couldn't help himself. "And have you had any food cravings? Milk perhaps?"

"No." Fenris deadpanned.

"Cream?"

"No."

"Raw meat?"

"No!" Fenris near shouted.

Anders produced a pink toy mouse from his pocket and dangled it in front of Fenris' face. "How does _this_ make you feel?"

For a second Anders wasn't sure if Fenris was going to pounce on the toy or on him with an arm outstretched, his eyes tracking the swinging toy.

But then Fenris came back to himself, and snarled, pulling his arm back. "Do not _toy_ with me, Mage."

As interesting as the physical reaction was, Anders had to stop himself from bursting with fits of laughter. He was surprised that the broody elf hadn't up and left his little space a long time ago, but this opportunity wasn't likely to come again. Unless he could get his hands on some of that dust...

Pushing that thought aside, Anders knew he shouldn't have been doing the elf the way he was, but he couldn't resist. It might have been pushing back relations between the two, and even though he knew he should apologize for his lack of compassion, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

Crossing the room, he patted the end of the one long table he had in the clinic. "Hop up here then, so I can examine you."

But Fenris didn't move, the frown etched deeper into his face.

"What?"

"Can't you _examine_ me standing up?"

"Don't be daft. Stop being a scaredy cat and come sit down." He snarked, a grin plastered on his mouth.

Fenris answered with a growl. "_No._"

"Why?"

Fenris didn't reply.

"Come now. You have to tell me or I can't help you."

It was then that Anders' compassion finally kicked in after gnawing at his sense of duty. By the reluctance Fenris was displaying, this situation was really hard for him. Though Anders wasn't sure what to say to coax the elf over to him. So he just remained silent and let Fenris decide when he wanted to speak. It took a look at the healer's patient face before the answer finally came.

"I... cannot sit. It is... painful."

Anders' brows arched. "Painful?"

"Did I not speak _clearly_ enough for you, Mage?"

He sighed. "Alright. No sitting, then." He really had no choice but to take the hands on approach; he was getting to the bottom of this either way. If he had to play by Fenris' rules, then he would do so. "Please take your cloak off."

"So. Where exactly is it painful for you, and what type of pain is it?"

The elf hummed in thought as he removed the heavy cloth off his shoulders, tossing it onto the back of one of the old wooden chairs that served as Anders' waiting room.

"My lower back, but the pain is difficult to explain."

"Have you ever had that sort of pain before?"

"If I _had_, do you think I would be here?"

Fenris' grousing was beginning to grate on his nerves, but Anders just kept reminding himself that he'd dealt with worse patients in the past.

He also reminded himself that Fenris, under his temperamental exterior, was probably unnerved about the whole thing.

Fenris was clad in his usual skin tight, battle-worn plates and leathers. He allowed Anders to move around to his posterior, and Anders, having touched the elf before _sans magic_, felt along the top of Fenris' neck down his spine, taking note of the vertebrae he felt there. Everything seemed fine, his patient still not volunteering any information as to his condition. Notching his way down toward the small of Fenris' back was when he noticed it.

A long sort of ridge curled just above where the elf's cleft would be situated under his clothing and into the curve of his spine.

Anders yanked his hands away, as if he'd touched something hot.

As a healer, he'd had to touch a lot of different things and people; men, women, private parts and not so private parts... but _this_ would go down in his memory as the most ... intriguing.

"Is there something _wrong_, Mage?"

The only thing _wrong_ was the way he cursed the Maker again in his mind – oh, that _and_ the shameful straining against the crotch of his pants under his robes.

Maybe he was dreaming. Yes, that _had _to be it. He _must_ have been in the Fade and _this _whole charade was the work of a desire demon! Damn those demons for knowing about his love for all things feline.

"Did you _sleep_ in your armour last night, Fenris?" Anders asked carefully.

"You know I sleep in it every night." He growled. "Are such questions necessary?"

"I think..." he started, wanting to touch and know for himself to prove his theory as to why the elf was in pain and unable to sit comfortably. "That you have a tail."

"A WHAT?" Fenris boomed, twisting around violently as if he could see it for himself.

Hands on the elf's disarmingly lithe shoulders, he held him still. "Shhh! Do you want to wake up the whole of Darktown?"

He was going to die.

He hadn't even touched those furry ears yet and he was going to die.

Fenris was going to pluck his beating heart from his chest, stomp on it, and he'd die.

"Calm yourself. I think I can relieve some of your... discomfort." Producing a small dagger from his robes, he quickly made an incision in the leather over where he suspected Fenris' tail had grown from, and as sure as the snow white hair of the suspected appendage puffed out, did Fenris object.

But it was too late. Not that Anders was listening anyway.

Sliding two fingers into the furry, nubile loop forced out of the backside of Fenris' breeches, Anders gently tugged the rest of the long tail free and into the open air.

And dammit if the elf didn't sigh in relief as it was freed.

As oddly arousing as the situation was, Anders smiled. "Better?"

Fenris stubbornly didn't answer, but Anders noted the tell-tale flush of the back of his neck.

Unable to stop himself, Anders firmly stroked the base of Fenris' new addition, fingers encircling width of the tail, smoothing it all the way to the end. The hair was as soft as a kitten's, leaving Anders to linger down the length of it more slowly than he had to. Not that he _had_ to do such a thing at all...

And he could almost hear the elf grit his teeth, jaw taut. "_Stop that_." he hissed.

"Sorry, you were... dishevelled."

"_It_." Fenris corrected, the tail twitching in annoyance. "That is not me, _these_ are not me!" He motioned in exasperation once again, to the snowy ears atop his head that were pressed flat against it.

Anders was floored. The tail, the ears, they were _responding_ to touch and sensation and emotion; they had to be made of Fenris' own flesh and nerves! "Right. Well, I should like to examine you to see if I can get a better idea of what has gone on. Can you sit now?"

Fenris' fast breathing was visible now in the rise and fall of his ribcage, his face absolutely set. Understandably he was upset leaving Anders to figure out not only how to reverse his transformation, but to calm the dangerous warrior as well. He didn't really want to be a victim of Fenris' phasing ability.

Anders walked back to the table and stood behind it. "I'll figure this out, Fenris. Don't worry."

He never expected his small resolution to calm Fenris, and in fact, his tone turned reassuring when he saw the near panic in Fenris' eyes.

"Come and sit down."

And Fenris did as he was bid, taking a seat at the very edge of the examination table.

Anders had to steel himself. This would take all of his concentration and all of his willpower just to not get carried away...

His fingers, usually so steady and confident were twitchy and damp with anxiety as he stood in front of the elf. Taking a deep, silent breath before broaching the distance between himself and Fenris, Anders made a decision to examine somewhere safe first.

He couldn't help but stare blatantly at the seemingly very real ears as they rested, perked, alert, ready to be touched...

_No no no._

Neck.

Glands.

Safe.

Pressing into the soft skin underneath the elf's jaw line, he noted nothing swollen or special; nothing added or subtracted. Working his way down the tensed jawline of the other man, he worked quickly. Anders could almost _hear_ the teeth grinding that was going on under his hand, those strange feline appendages twitching everytime his fingers slid down tanned skin. Hazarding a guess, he figured Fenris to have been on edge even before he started, so he worked as quickly as he could. Shifting on his feet, he moved his head ever so slightly to peer at the tail he could hear flipping, agitated, against the wooden surface.

His slight movement served to inform him that he was very firm, trapped between his belly and the too-tight front of his pants. The pressure was all pleasure, but not nearly enough.

"Firm – err.. _fine_ there..." he murmured.

He wondered how hard someone, somewhere was laughing at him.

With that in mind, Anders figured it was now or never.

Trembling hands moving to take their first touch of the brilliant white ears – the hint of a healthy pink on the inside now that he was closer up – but... something was missing. And he couldn't quite put his finger on it -

Ears!

Not the obvious cat-like ones, but Fenris' natural ears! Fingers diving excitedly into the hair, he parted it this way and that, searching for any sign of them, but there was none. Where there had been proud, pointed ears before, there was only smooth, hair covered scalp.

"Your ears!"

A hasty exhale of breath between his teeth, Fenris recoiled, the new ears flattening against the contour of his skull once again. "You do not have to shout, Mage!"

Anders stopped, mouth still slightly open.

Did he just hear what he _thought_ he just heard?

Fenris had... _hissed_; he was sure of it.

...And Anders _liked_ it.

That was about the time when Anders decided that he _should_ tell the elf to go see someone else about his little problem... because after Fenris tore his heart out for being wholly inappropriate, Anders knew he'd be bound for the deepest pit of hell.

He apologized quietly for exclaiming his discovery into Fenris' ear, and attempted a detatched sort of explaination. "Uh, your natural ears seem to have been... _refashioned_ into these...That must be why they're so..." repressing a shiver, his voice evaporated "...responsive."

_Attempt at detaching failed._

Only slightly amazed how he could so quickly disappoint himself, Anders breathed in silently and nodded.

_Just concentrate and don't do anything stupid. Simple._

Finally, he brought the pad of one finger into contact with the silky, fine hair-covered tip, tracing the shell all the way down.

Fenris jerked backward unexpectedly, and Anders yanked his own hand away in surprise.

"Did that... hurt?"

Typically, when something was painful, a person wouldn't have a blush-type response. And if the violent splash of colour that rushed to Fenris' face was any indication, Anders' first guess would have been that the touch was embarrassing, possibly surprising, or perhaps even pleasurable.

How in Thedas was he going to be able to work under these conditions?

Fenris had swung his head away from Anders curious gaze, and when he spoke, his voice was a touch hoarser than normal. "Just... get on with it."

"Well, you have to stay still. I know you're not used to touch, but I've no choice in the matter." Though, if he were being honest, there was a choice. "Unless you feel more comfortable going to see Bethany or someone else in the circle."

"No!" replied Fenris rather quickly, the desperation in his eyes appealed to Anders' Hippocratic soul. "No one else must know of this. I will kill—"

"I know, I know. You'll kill me if I tell anyone. Standard fare. Now be silent and let me work."

Taking up a lit candle, and not relishing the idea of using magic on the mage-hating elf who obviously didn't need further reasons to despise him, Anders decided it would be best to take care of his patient in the gentlest way possible.

For Fenris, that didn't include the use of his medicinal magic.

Under Anders' patient probing of those sinfully soft ears, he could feel the tension recede a little from the elf's frame. From what he could see by the candlelight, everything looked proper – as proper as it could be, he supposed.

The pink lining Fenris' ears was very cute, baby fine hair jutted out from inside; a bit wild, longer than the scruffy softness they were covered in.

_Cute._ _Ugh._

It was okay to _appreciate_, but not take advantage of the situation. It _had _to be ok... the Maker had created _all _things... right?

_Not the right time for a philosophical monologue..._

He knew they picked up sound just fine having inadvertently tested that earlier. They were responsive, and free of sores or any other problems that might have developed from Fenris' rough treatment earlier.

Had to check them both, though. He knew that a clean bill of health on one didn't mean the other was fine.

Stepping around Fenris' knees to the other side, to get a better angle, Anders started at the base of the ear, touching lightly, parting hair. Besides the fact that those ears shouldn't have been there, everything was unremarkably normal - until Fenris' head bumped against his fingertips.

And Anders paused; looking down at Fenris' forehead with just the slow moment of his eyes.

Nothing.

Maybe Fenris had just shifted on the table. That had to be it.

Clearing his throat, Anders continued carefully, that desire slowly seeping its way back into his groin. With a featherlight fingertip, the blond traced the outline of the ear, soliciting another, more insistent butt against his hand.

Rubbing had been one of those things he wanted to stay away from, but there was something intoxicating about Fenris sitting in front of him with appendages he loved to stoke the most – aside from his own.

He loved cats.

He loved everything about them, they way they ate, the way they lapped up milk, purring, meowing, head butting, ears and paws and tails...

He'd never felt any misplaced desire towards them; they were just beloved pets and companions.

But this – _this_ was so obviously not the same thing.

So, when he _petted_ Fenris' head, first with the pads of his fingers, and then with his whole hand, and the warrior didn't stick his fist in his chest, he could only take that as permission. From base to tips, he stroked an ear lightly at first, and Fenris' head continued to push against his palm.

"Harder." Fenris _implored_ – had he ever heard the elf sound that way? – breathlessly.

Anders swallowed a nervous gulp of air.

The elf had never been able to hide his feelings about, well, _anything –_ least of all the things he felt strongly about – so when that voice, laced with need spoke, Anders could not bring himself to deny. That, and the racing staccato of his heart in his ear only accentuated his own desire.

Using both hands, and a heavier touch, he rubbed the base of the twitchy things first, then stroked along with the grain of hair, tips between thumb and index finger; same on each side.

A shaky series of exhales and halting inhales from his patient urged him on as he stroked and fondled the entire hair-covered top of Fenris' head. The motions were hypnotizing; like he was petting a real cat, losing himself as he often did. Nuzzling a single ear with his nose, he offhandedly wondered how this all felt to Fenris. Judging from the slightly laboured breathing – not including his own heavier breaths somewhere in the mix – it must have felt even better to him than it did to Anders.

And it felt pretty damn brilliant to Anders.

It felt _odd _to say the least, since discovering what Fenris had been changed into, his cock had not been flagging, and it was only getting worse; damp with his own desperation but with no one to pay it the attention it ached for. Not to mention the whole situation had shifted into something far more intimate with all this touching and rubbing and _petting_

Lightly scratching Fenris' scalp with his nails, his head lolled into Anders' cupped hands leaving him with a near boneless elven mess. Nosing the base of one of the large ears, Anders finally couldn't help himself from mouthing the tip of it, not _inside _his mouth, but just as deep as his teeth were covered.

And he could _feel_ the tug it gave as Fenris tried to free his ear from between Anders' lips.

Palms met with his chest and Anders was pushed roughly away.

Staggering back, Anders blinked, and for a moment nothing came. Suddenly, and with no small amount of shame for his disgraceful behaviour, he suddenly realized how dangerously heady the feelings were that had loaned him false confidence, and managed a meek apology. "I shouldn't have -"

He couldn't have been sure he'd actually been speaking, all coherent thought escaping as Fenris stood from the table and seized his arms, a rumble in his chest. Anders was taller than Fenris; more sturdy, but even though he had some well toned muscle, he was no match for the ex-slave.

And Anders thought that was it for him.

_Breathe your last breath!_

But, the elf wasn't glowing. In fact, not only was he not glowing, but Fenris had Anders turned completely around, the backs of his thighs bumped against the examination table, leaving him nowhere to go but backside first onto the edge of it. His mouth dropped open a second, witnessing Fenris unbuckle and remove his skin tight leather tunic.

"Uh, Fenris?"

Without dropping the smouldering gaze, the offending garment was tossed aside, and the warrior descended on Anders again, plying a much gentler, but not any less insistent, hand to his chest.

Anders half wiggled, half pulled himself across the surface of the somewhat unstable thing, struggling to keep his robes from falling open as Fenris pressed on. He wasn't sure if he was trying to get away, or make it easier to be caught. And once near the middle of the makeshift examination bed, Fenris smoothly mounted the end, forcing Ander's knees together as he straddled them.

Kneeling, ears twitching, tail flipping behind him, the feral look in his dark eyes brought the healer's struggling to a standstill, hands instead gripping the edge of the table. Fenris, the mage-hating warrior, slowly shimmied his way over Anders' prone body, dipping his pelvis to make pointed contact as he made his way up.

Every place Fenris languidly pressed his body against on the way up felt like it was on fire, the simple actions leaving Anders' mouth feeling dry; tongue too fat for words.

Coming to a stop just below the embarrassing lump trapped inside Anders' suede breeches, strong elven hands slid up the straight line of Anders' hip, dragging over the side of his belly as Fenris grasped at either side of the heavy coat he sported. With an easy motion that earned a barely intelligible objection, Fenris busted every clasp on the way up, exposing the mage's bare torso.

It was only then, with Fenris poised over him like a predator, that Anders let his eyes rove over the lithe elven body. He'd seen Fenris plenty of times before; saw his skin and his muscles, and the lyrium brands; hadn't seen him completely naked – which was a bit of a pity – but it wasn't like there had been many opportunities. As it turned out, Fenris was rather fond of clothing and armour – though, judging by the wrecked outfit Anders now worked his arms out of, the elf wasn't fond of any clothing that got in the way.

The coat would cost some money to fix, but Anders suspected that it might be worth it when a firm hand traced down the centre of his chest and taut belly, heading straight to the waistband of his trousers.

And oh. What did he see as Fenris worked at the laces?

It appeared the elf had his own physical needs.

Fenris' leggings were like a second skin, and for the lump to be that _large_ underneath the cloth covering his crotch, well, Anders didn't have to do much math. Good thing too, he didn't reckon there was any blood left in his brain for such computations.

Then cool air hit his freed length and he gasped as Fenris took him in hand, the caloused palm of his patient finally scratching the itch he suffered. Tight and warm, Fenris' grasp working his cock was just what he needed and Anders' eyes rolled back into his sockets as he succumbed to the sensation. He didn't really give any thought to consequences or how he'd feel tomorrow; everything was intoxicating, leaving his mind hazy with lust and want.

Fenris readjusted his grip on the mage's length and then there were hands working up pale sides, scratching lightly here, pinching there, tweaking nipples. The elf's mouth was on him too, lips trailing his collarbone, clever tongue dipping into the hollow at his throat as his hands caressed elsewhere, reducing him quickly into a needy pile of mage; all the while the constant ring moving tightly up and down his cock left him rolling his hips uselessly.

Anders' hands returned to Fenris' hair and ears, lavishing attention on them. Two could play at that game. Besides, he was never one to just take and not return the favour. Any sexual encounter was much more pleasurable when both parties were having a good time...

Slipping his fingertips into fine white hair, he quickly found the underside of the ears, stroking them firmly then tugging gently at the tips, teasing and promising nothing more than that touch. Though, the arching of his back and consequential undulating of his body as Fenris pinched his nipples gave him away as a little needier than he wanted to appear.

To hell with it. _This,_ whatever it was, wasn't going to happen again.

With a mouth on his neck; tongue leaving damp trails; two hands on his chest, manipulating his pleasure and one hand squeezing his cock so perfectly... How could anyone _not_ feel overwhelming desire?

Wait.

Two hands on his chest, one on his...

Three hands?

Surely Fenris didn't grow an extra -

Snatching two slim elven wrists up in his hands, he sat up, taking his hybrid companion with him, putting a little space for thought between their bodies.

Those green eyes were glazed over with what could only be described as blind lust. Since all this started, and not for the first time, it felt like Fenris wasn't himself.

With the little bit of blood that was still in his brain, the look on Fenris' face made Anders _the healer _stop and think. Not like himself, huh? Where had he seen that before...?

He remembered. There had been this time in the circle. He'd heard of an elixir that resulted in wanton behaviour. The subject was, subsequently, at the mercy of his or her 'master' – whoever might have initiated relations of a sexual nature with them first. What he didn't remember was how the amourous feelings resolved themselves...

Perhaps this was like that then; the magic was making him do the things he was doing, and he'd probably remember everything when the spell – or whatever it was – wore off. What would happen then? He should have thought about the consequences; the fallout that was most likely inevitable, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Especially as his eyes swept down between their bodies, where he saw Fenris' clothed crotch, and his own currently neglected member, pressing pointedly against that scorching leather bump.

He couldn't know; couldn't predict the future. Maybe everything would be fine. The Maker worked in mysterious ways sometimes; and he was babbling. In his own mind no less. There had to be better things to think about.

Like what the hell was that just now.

Though, there was no way that insignificant, yet wholly traitorous, corner of his mind would stop with the nagging.

Willpower was not something Anders was good at being tested on. In fact, he'd never been good at keeping his hands where they belonged. Whether it had been someone else's girlfriend or boyfriend, or instructor, Anders could never quite control himself.

What he wanted and what was right were two very different things.

He should have just pushed Fenris off him, gave him a sedative and ushered him out of the clinic – because that was the respectful, honourable thing to do – but, no.

Whatever it was that was blissfully jerking him had stopped; and though he suspected he knew the answer, Anders, he who never-shut-up-for-more-than-five-minutes had to go and open his damn fool mouth.

"What... were you doing just a minute ago...?"

Tilting his head down, Fenris looked deliciously devious under his dark lashes, a flick of the long, white tail catching Anders' attention. And he watched it curl around Fenris' side, slipping sensually along the inside of a lithe thigh to wrap, more than once, around Anders' aching cock.

_Maker save me._

"You mean _this_...?" breathed Fenris as the tail constricted around his length, the pressure prompting a fresh wave of need to cinch like a belt low in his belly.

Still sitting up as much as he could, it was the icing on the cake that Anders could hold both of Fenris' wrists captive while the sinful motion continued. This time watching his cock being teased and worked by a soft, flexible _tail _was a bit more than he could stand, and if Fenris kept up that perfect stroke of his; every second movement up brought a silky swipe over his leaking slit; he would be in trouble of finishing too soon.

Pulling Fenris firmly in toward him, Anders sought his mouth, catching it open in surprise; sliding his tongue past those pouty, broody lips. Long, seeking licks, as Anders held the elf fast until he began to melt against him, returning the kisses both eagerly and skillfully. Once the distraction was in place, and Fenris' hands fell limply to his sides, Anders wasted no time in sneaking his way down to the waist of the elf's leather barrier. He couldn't see what was happening, and he fumbled around for a breath but soon felt Fenris' cock spring out and bounce excitedly against his own, drawing a sharp intake of breath from his unexpected partner, the nimble tail loosening and falling away.

If Fenris liked _that, _then he was bound to love what was coming next.

Quickly conjuring a bit of slick on his palm and fingers, he swiped his hand over the topside of his own cock, took Fenris firmly in hand with the other – he was quite large for an elf as far as Anders' experience went – and gave a few experimental pumps. Opening his grasp wide enough to fit the elf's cock astride his own, he was reminded of the height difference between them. Anders, being on the tall side, and Fenris being of a rather average height, would only work properly if the latter scooted up a little.

Regretfully, he released Fenris' length to draw a hand back to grasp his backside, but it appeared that Fenris needed no queue, bucking his hips as he scrambled the few inches up and into the tight, oiled fist.

And as soon as Fenris was situated, he growled at first into Anders' mouth, and then grew less coherent – if he was ever that in the first place – as they began jerky movements, kisses becoming sloppier and sloppier until they were just gaping against eachother's mouths.

Hands once again on Anders' chest, Fenris pushed him back down onto the table, doing most of the work as Anders desperately tried to hang onto some semblance of control over his release. His grip slackened as the elf ground repeatedly against him, his wrist starting to get sore from the unusual angle.

And then Anders ordered something that, not even in his wildest fantasies, he'd ever though he'd utter.

"Use your tail around us both."

There was practically no pause in the pressure as his slick hand freed itself from between their bodies while Fenris' tail took over. Though, there was a shift in Fenris' expression – from almost wild – to reined-in concentration. It ignited a flicker of familiar curiosity that was quickly forgotten after the first tight pump.

"Maker's breath, that feels good..." Anders confessed, voice already ragged.

Rutting mindlessly in the silky grasp, their slicked cocks not only filled the room with encouraging _squelching_ sounds, but also produced the most sublime _heat_ between them, leaving Anders careening too close to the edge once again. With his eyes squinted closed, and hands on the slight elven hips, enjoying the movements of his body, he realized the warrior had stopped making any and all noises. Peeking up above him at the tanned face, it looked too far from the edge; too controlled, lacking the necessary raw desire his own held.

_At the mercy of a 'master' is it...?_

Anders felt dirty even _thinking_ something like that when Fenris had such a past, but if this was what Anders suspected it was, along the same vein of what he had heard about in the circle, he figured that this was the natural course of the curse and that it would work itself to resolution. If he, an innocent, witty, handsome and now very horny healer, was to be part of the solution, so be it.

"Take your pleasure..." He murmured, one hand slipping back into Fenris' hair to fondle a large, twitchy ear. Anders had refrained from referring to Fenris as '_my pet_' as he so badly to punctuate that sentence with, but he figured that there was no reason to go overboard.

With a slight grin on his lips, Anders' oily hand continued down the smooth cleft of buttock, stopping to scratch and pet the thick base of tail.

Fenris mewled into the open air, and Anders couldn't help but grin. He could feel the indecision in the elf's body, wanting to push his ass against Anders' hand, but also wanting to keep his cock sandwiched just where it was.

Dipping his head, perhaps to hide the pink that was near permanent on his face now, Fenris latched onto one of Anders' nipples and laved it; nipping at it and suckling at it while he kept thrusting. He was glad to let the elf do all the work – Anders knew himself far too well to take things into his own hands; he would have already come if it had been left up to him.

Summoning a bit more slick to his fingertips, Anders hooked his thumb around that pliant tail to keep the stimulation there, and began to circle Fenris' puckered entrance even after he cried out like a virgin after the very first touch of skin.

"Now we're having some fun..." Anders bit out, meaning to sound alot more in control than he was.

The pad of his finger slid so easily over and around that secret part of Fenris that Anders, finding Fenris invitingly loose, couldn't help himself from slipping half his finger into the tight heat. He had never planned on actually penetrating the other man, but when he did, Fenris let loose an almost painful sounding cry as precursor to decorating Anders' stomach with his release.

As Fenris jerked and throbbed against him, the grip around him impossibly tight, it didn't take long for Anders to follow; half a pump maybe, just the sound of that husky voice near weeping in ecstasy enough to completely undo him.

Fingers digging into Fenris' straight line of hip, that damned tail didn't stop moving until it milked him completely, every last drop of his own seed mixing with Fenris', trickling down his sides and welling in his navel.

Ugh. He hated when it got in there.

But, it was worth it.

_All _of it was worth it.

Covered in quickly cooling, stubborn, slippery come, Anders coaxed a boneless Fenris down on top of him, petting him and those amazing ears. He, very selfishly, considered all the fun he could have with them if they didn't end up disappearing when the curse was broken.

And that tail. What a wonderful thing _it_ was.

Stiffling a yawn, he heard only one thing before the world grew dark...

That bastard was _purring._


End file.
